


Echo

by Ausp_ice



Series: Self [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Bottom Upgraded Connor | RK900, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Has a Penis, M/M, Mind Sex, Narcissism, Porn with Feelings, Post-Peaceful Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Selfcest, Thirium Pump Regulator Play, Top Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Upgraded Connor | RK900 Has No Genitalia, i guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:47:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26322892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ausp_ice/pseuds/Ausp_ice
Summary: Nines lets himself imagine that he isn't completely alone as he takes himself again and again.And then he is. Jericho works together with Kamski, and after all this time, they manage to recover Connor’s AI from fragments remaining in his previous bodies.Unfortunately, those bodies are beyond repair. Unfortunately, they can’t upload him into any random chassis—the AI is only compatible with an RK800 body. Unfortunately, the original data for the RK800 model was purged before CyberLife turned the Tower over to Jericho.Anderson is crushed by the news. He manages to get his hands on some alcohol, despite Nines’s attempts to purge any traces of it from his home. He spirals again, and…Nines gives up RK800 #313 248 317 - 59.
Relationships: Connor/Upgraded Connor | RK900, Hank Anderson & Connor, Hank Anderson & Upgraded Connor | RK900
Series: Self [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1898734
Comments: 11
Kudos: 56





	Echo

**Author's Note:**

> Part 2 of Nines Fucked Himself
> 
> Now with Feelings and Actual RK1700 :3c

Six months pass. Markus secures more rights for androids. Anderson still has no job, having been fired from the DPD following his assault on Agent Perkins, but Nines—Anderson started calling him that, and he decided to keep the name—takes it upon himself to ensure there is positive progress in the human’s physical and mental health. He assists the androids with renovating old buildings into android housing, receiving a stipend for it. Not that he has much to spend it on, so he occasionally buys proper food for the former lieutenant.

“Why are you doing this,” Anderson asks him tiredly one day.

He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t quite know, himself. Perhaps it’s a sense of guilt, for wearing the face of the one that gave Anderson a reason to live again, only to take his own life. Perhaps it’s… loneliness. He has yet to form any friendships, and has yet to casually interact with any individuals. He supposes it might have to do with his demeanor. Others seem intimidated by him. Many seem to think he is still a machine, and he is unsure how to explain that he has already deviated.

Or perhaps he feels guilty for regularly using his predecessor’s body sexually. It’s an escape, in a way. An intimacy he can only have with himself. He lets himself fall apart in his own hands, breaks himself into pieces and puts himself back together.

He takes himself on the wall, on the floor. Roughly, gently, sometimes dangerously—when he removes his groin plate or chest plate and fucks directly into his wires. Sometimes he finds cables in storage to string himself up, make one body helpless—usually his original—and dominate and submit to himself all at once. Sometimes he caresses himself, holds himself, plays with his hair, lets himself imagine he isn’t completely alone.

And then he is. Jericho works together with Kamski, and after all this time, they manage to recover Connor’s AI from fragments remaining in his previous bodies.

Unfortunately, those bodies are beyond repair. Unfortunately, they can’t upload him into any random chassis—the AI is only compatible with an RK800 body. Unfortunately, the original data for the RK800 model was purged before CyberLife turned the Tower over to Jericho.

Anderson is crushed by the news. He manages to get his hands on some alcohol, despite Nines’s attempts to purge any traces of it from his home. He spirals _again,_ and…

Nines gives up RK800 #313 248 317 - 59. He makes sure it is completely spotless, clean of Nines’s activities, and brings it to Markus while he’s in the Tower.

The RK200 is shocked. Surprised. “Connor?”

“There is no AI inside it,” Nines says. “I am simply piloting the chassis. Connor should have it.”

Markus’s brow furrows. “You can do that?”

“Yes. This is more convenient than carrying it.”

“Okay…” Markus hesitates. “Where did you find… it?” His mouth twists in discomfort, likely at referring to the chassis as an object.

“In storage.”

Markus doesn’t press for more information—Nines suspects he is still uncomfortable with him—and brings Nines to an infirmary. That is to say, a repurposed assembly room. Nines, in the RK800 body, steps up to the rig. The arms descend and attach to the RK800, immobilizing it, and Markus steps up to attach a cable to the neck port.

Nines recalls the pleasure of licking into his own, lathing the RK800’s tongue in the hole—he shuts down the memory quickly and steps forward to take one of the hands into an interface. It’s not _strictly_ necessary, but… this may be the last time he can connect so intimately with it. He lets himself wash over every subprocess one more time before he finally lets go, pulling back completely. The RK800’s eyes slip shut, and the LED flickers off.

“Is there anything else you need?” Nines asks.

Markus frowns. “I guess not? Do you want to be here when he wakes up, though?”

Nines is uncertain. “We have… never met.”

“But you helped him, didn’t you? And I know you’re helping Mr. Anderson, too.”

“... Alright,” he agrees.

Markus calls Simon—the head of android medicine, so to speak—as well as Kamski and Anderson to the room. Nines sits stiffly on a chair a ways off while they discuss the process. He does not pay attention to most of it, but he does catch, “Nines was controlling the body when he brought it over.”

He’s not sure he wants to know how they respond to that, so he disregards further audio input until Connor starts to move. Tries to, that is. He seems confused. “Where… what happened?”

Simon lets him off the rig, and then Markus explains what happened. They managed to recover his AI, and Nines found his body. Connor glances over and meets Nines’s eyes. Nines nods stiffly.

Markus asks if Connor remembers what happened. He does, though it’s a bit fragmented. He remembers the investigation. The Tower. The speech, the Zen Garden program, Amanda, escaping her temporarily. He could feel her trying to pull him back, so he just… ended it.

“You’re free of that now, Connor,” Kamski says, waving a hand. “I took care of it.”

Clear relief washes over Connor's face.

Anderson, on the other hand, is awkward, hesitant. “Do you… how much do you remember about me?”

Connor blinks. His LED spins yellow. “I know you graduated top of your class. You made a name for yourself in several cases, and became the youngest lieutenant in Detroit. I also know you’ve received several disciplinary warnings in recent years and you’ve spent a lot of time in bars.”

Anderson freezes.

“You also assaulted a federal agent for me, and by the looks of it, got fired. I guess I can’t call you Lieutenant anymore, but… can I call you my friend?”

“You immortal bastard,” Hank says, pulling Connor into a hug. Nines looks away. That closeness is not for him.

They start to talk about various other things, and Nines feels out of place. He slips away.

Nines later finds out, when he goes to visit Anderson the next day, that Connor has decided to live with him. He can preconstruct them in the house based on their voices and other sounds: Connor cooking, Anderson complaining and insisting on helping.

He isn’t needed anymore, he realizes. Not here. He leaves.

Nines throws himself into the housing work. He renovates houses better, faster, and makes them more resilient than anyone else does. Markus seems impressed, though he looks at Nines strangely some days.

Nines is… he feels… empty. Frustrated. He lies in his basic bed in CyberLife Tower. Sometimes he takes out his regulator and fingers his hole until he reboots, but it leaves him unsatisfied. So he enters stasis. He sleeps the days away, so to speak.

And then—he sees Connor one day while he’s renovating a house. Connor asks to talk to him, and, having very little excuse to refuse, he agrees. Both of them take a seat on some piles of wooden boards.

“I was… curious about you,” Connor says. “You still wear your CyberLife uniform?”

“They are self-cleaning. I do not have any other clothes. Additionally, I… like how they look.”

Connor blinks. “So… you _are_ deviant? Markus said he couldn’t convert you when you woke up, and everyone thinks you’re still a machine.”

Nines nods, looking somewhere off to the side. He can’t help but note that his posture is incredibly stiff in comparison to Connor’s. He’s relaxed, humanlike. He wears the body better than Nines ever did. Even though Nines knows it more intimately than Connor does.

He shuts down the thought quickly. “I have been a deviant for six months, two weeks, and five days.” He faintly wonders if he can crack some kind of joke about being a sexual deviant.

Connor nods. “I see. So… you started helping Hank before then.”

“I… did.”

“And you continued to help him after.”

“Yes…”

Connor watches him. “He’s been wondering about you, you know. You came every day, but as soon as I came back, you stopped. Why?”

Nines shifts slightly, squeezing his hands together where they’re laced in his lap. “I… wasn’t needed anymore. _You_ are his friend, I was only… a stopgap.”

The expression on Connor’s face shifts into one of contemplation. Consideration. As if he is scrutinizing Nines, trying to see through him.

_(His body already has—seen everything, that is. Panels open, wiring exposed—his body has been inside Nines, thrusting over and over as Nines moans from two bodies—)_

Nines shuts down the memory with visceral force.

“Your stress just jumped to 30%,” Connor says, “and it’s been around 10% this entire conversation. Am I… distressing you?”

“It is—not your fault,” Nines says. “I apologize.”

Connor’s brows furrow. “Why are _you_ apologizing? I’m the one stressing you out.”

Nines shakes his head. Connor frowns slightly, looking away. “I feel like… there’s so much I don’t know about you. It doesn’t feel like the things they say about you—that you’re a soulless machine—are true. I’d like to get to know you a little better, Nines. Would that be okay with you?”

Despite everything, Nines finds himself—yearning. Every time he looks at Connor, he’s reminded of what he’s done, but… that body is no longer Nines’s. It’s Connor’s, it’s his, and whatever Nines did is no longer relevant. He thinks… maybe this can fill the empty feeling within him. He can no longer get sexual gratification, but this—this is better, isn’t it?

He only realizes he’s taken too long to answer when Connor’s face pinches in worry. But before Connor can say anything, Nines blurts out, “Yes. Yes, I—I would like that.”

Connor beams, and Nines is dazzled by it.

* * *

It starts small. Simple. Connor visits Nines in the Tower, and they just… talk. Connor tells Nines about how he and Anderson are doing—they’ve decided to try repurposing Anderson’s backyard into a little garden business, growing all sorts of fruits and herbs. They’re just getting started, but they have time. Anderson’s doing well, apparently, and Nines feels a strange melancholy happiness at that. He’s glad the human is doing better, but… to get confirmation that he isn’t needed makes the emptiness in him ache.

Nines manages to relax around Connor, despite the number of surprise reconstructions his processors throw at him at every reminder of what he did. He tells Connor what he’s been doing: he’d work at a housing site for many hours of the day, and then return to the Tower, usually entering stasis.

Connor frowns. “That’s it?”

He’s not sure he should tell Connor about what more or less amounts to masturbating. “Essentially.”

“Do you talk to anyone else? Go out? Wander the city?”

“… No?”

Connor grabs his hand, and the touch is familiar-unfamiliar—

He shuts down the memory before it starts.

“Come with me,” Connor says gravely. “At the very least, I can take you shopping.” He pauses. “If you want.”

Nines agrees, and that is how he ends up with a few shopping bags full of clothes for himself. Mostly turtlenecks of various dark and neutral colors, along with black pants, socks, and shoes.

“You really like turtlenecks, huh? I know it was part of your uniform, but I guess… it suits you.”

The words make a nice feeling blossom in his chassis. “Thank you.”

Connor looks at him with an expression Nines can’t quite read. "No problem," he says.

It isn’t long before Connor asks if Nines wants to visit. Anderson’s place, that is. “You keep asking after him, and as I’ve said, he’s been wondering about you.”

So Nines visits the next day. He hesitates at the threshold, finger over the doorbell. By “hesitate,” Nines means that he stands there for all of five minutes.

**CONNECTION REQUESTED BY RK800 “CONNOR”**

**ACCEPT?**

Nines blinks and accepts.

_I heard you approach, you know. You’re surprisingly shy… It’s okay. We’re both looking forward to seeing you._

Nines supposes he should have expected that. _Okay,_ he sends, and ends the connection before he rings the doorbell.

Connor opens it and beams. “Hey, Nines!”

“Hello, Connor.”

“Come on inside, Hank’s on the couch.”

Connor leads him to the aforementioned location, seeing Anderson for the first time in almost two months. He's looking well—very well. His beard is trimmed and his hair is pulled back into a ponytail. Based on Nines's scans, he's completely sober, though Nines doesn't doubt that he still has the occasional drink.

"Hello, Anderson," Nines says. "It's good to see that you are well."

"Quit it with the Anderson thing, will ya? I told you to call me Hank."

Nines blinks. "Understood, Hank."

The human sits up from his slouch, peering at Nines where he stands with his arms behind his back. "So… how've you been? Last time you came here was," he scratches his head, "two months ago? Ish?"

"Correct." Nines takes a moment to consider his answer to the other question. What should he say? That he feels like there's a gaping emptiness in him, that he constantly reconstructs his sexual liaisons using what is now Connor's body? That sometimes he can't even enter stasis until he makes himself reboot by fingering his regulator port or his wires?

"Your LED is red, Nines," Connor says softly. "What's wrong?"

Everything. Nothing. "I… it's nothing… you need to be concerned about."

Connor takes a step forward, worry clear on his face. He touches Nines on the elbow, and Nines can't help flinching back.

"I-I'm sorry," Nines says. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be here. The two of you are—" Complete, without him. "I should j-just go," he says, voice tinged with static.

Hank stands up. "Nines, look. You took care of me, you made sure I kept on going when I lost hope. I didn't—I didn't appreciate it, or at least I didn't want to then, but—if you never helped, I wouldn't be here now." He holds a hand forward. "Just, uh… Thank you, Nines," Hank says sincerely, looking him in the eye. "You stayed when no one else did, but…"

Hank sighs. "You left, and I didn't know why, and now your mood ring's doing a rave in red and yellow. If you're having trouble with something, can you let us help?"

"I'm…" Nines lifts his hands to hold his arms. "I'm not… it's just… nothing." And that's precisely it. He's having trouble with _nothing._ Having nothing, being nothing.

Hank protests. "It's obviously not _nothing—"_

"Hank," Connor says, "do you mind taking Sumo for a walk?"

"Huh?" Hank gives Connor a bewildered look. "What—now?"

"Yes, now. I'd like to speak with Nines alone. For an hour, at least, unless I message you before."

Alone? Nines feels his stress rise, and absently notes that it's almost at 70% already.

Hank grumbles but complies, and before long, Connor and Nines are alone in the house.

Connor sits down on the couch, gesturing next to him. "Please, sit," he says. "If you want."

Nines nods and, after a moment, walks over stiffly before sitting down, plenty of space in between them. Silence descends, the distant ticking of an analog clock being the most noticeable sound.

"You're the one that found this body, right?" Connor asks suddenly.

Nines nods. "That's correct."

"And you were piloting it when you brought it to Markus. Is that a thing you can do? Control other androids?"

"I… think so," Nines says. "I have not attempted it with a living android. I had discovered the function rather accidentally—I believe my model was intended to be a… hivemind, of sorts. However, my development is incomplete, and I am the only RK900 in existence."

"I see." Connor nods. He grips his knees. "So… before I sought you out, I was trying to sort out my memories. Things were still a bit fragmented and all." He looks up at Nines. "While I was doing so, I found a few… out-of-place memory files in a backup location."

Memory files…?

"Well—maybe not out of place. But they weren't mine."

Nines freezes.

"They were already there, as part of the RK800-59 chassis, dating back to… about seven months, now. I opened one of the earlier ones, and I see… you. Machine you, I think. After getting to know you, I can really see the difference. You didn't do much in that first one."

Nines grips his hands so tightly that the skin bleeds away, revealing the black of his chassis. Connor doesn't seem to notice, since he's looking off to the side.

"And then I opened a later one. Only sound and sight, no sensation, but you… I saw you again, and I—this body was penetrating your… wires. I shut down the memory as soon as I realized what was happening."

Nines's breath is completely arrested. Every actuator locked. He doesn't know how to respond.

Connor finally seems to notice his state, brows furrowing. "Nines—"

"I'm sorry," Nines says, voice laced with static. "I'm sorry, I—I thought you were gone, I thought it wouldn't hurt anyone, I d-didn't think—I thought it was fine, I just wanted—I wanted—" he lets out a burst of pure static.

"Nines," Connor says. He slides closer, reaching a hand forward, and Nines closes his eyes, bracing himself for—whatever Connor intends.

Of all the possibilities, he does not expect Connor to gently lay his hand on Nines's arm. Nines hikes his shoulders up, tensing.

"It's okay," Connor says, voice soft. "It's okay."

Nines looks up to see Connor looking at him calmly, eyes free of judgement. "Is it?" Nines asks. "How can you still touch me? You must think I'm disgusting. Perverted. Wearing that body like it was my own, using it to please myself." Nines closes his eyes. "I knew I shouldn't have. But I… I kept coming back. I couldn't stop. I… I wanted to keep doing it. It w-was the first thing I knew I wanted."

"Shh," Connor shushes, drawing even closer. Nines is confused for a moment when he feels arms circle around him, familiar—but alarming, and he jerks in the grasp, eyes snapping open.

"It's okay, Nines. I'm not mad. I don't think you're disgusting." Connor pulls Nines's head to his shoulder, bracing his other arm around Nines's back. "You're okay."

And Nines—lets himself melt into the touch, familiar but unfamiliar. Comforting, even as the edge of panic thrums in his synthetic nerves.

"You used to hold yourself like this sometimes," Connor murmurs, brushing his hand through Nines's hair. "I saw this body holding you. You holding this body."

Nines closes his eyes, letting himself indulge in the feeling. The frazzled panic is drawn into a string of tense equanimity. "Yes. I did."

"Were you lonely?"

Nines breathes out. "Perhaps."

The grip around him tightens for a moment before loosening, and Connor rubs Nines's back soothingly. A few minutes pass before Connor speaks again.

"After I discovered the memories, I… I sought you out. I didn't know what to think, but I didn't know what kind of person you were. I wanted to understand. I wanted to get a chance to know you before I made a judgement.

"You were… you _looked_ emotionless, but you _seemed_ anything but." Connor toys with the hair at the base of Nines's neck, making him shiver. Connor smooths it back almost apologetically.

"As time passed, I learned more about you. You have very particular tastes in clothing. You talk really stiffly, and you're very blunt. You're… extremely reserved, and don't talk to others much. You're shy. And you're… very, very lonely."

Nines takes a shuddering breath and nods, burying his face in Connor's shoulder. As he has done so many times before, gasping, biting, sucking—

No, no, not _now._ Nines jerks back, inhaling sharply, making Connor's hands land on his arms. "I don't deserve this," Nines laughs bitterly. "I am just—a filthy deviant, in more ways than one. I _used_ your body to indulge in my own pleasure."

At that, Connor chuckles. "I'm no better than you, if that's the case."

Nines blinks. He furrows his brow. "What… do you mean?"

Connor looks off to the side, smiling wryly. "I got curious. I watched the rest. I saw this body pleasuring you, holding you, I saw you pleasuring yourself in this body." He meets Nines's eyes again. "I watched all of it, Nines. Like you, I couldn't stop. Want to know the best part?"

"What," Nines asks faintly.

"I got off to it. I became aroused at the sight of plunging my phallus into your regulator slot, into your wires, of sucking on your regulator and licking into your slot, your mouth. I imagined that it was myself in this body." Connor smiles. "I achieved release multiple times at the sight of you. In a way, I used you for pleasure too, didn't I?"

Nines takes a very long moment to say anything. "I-I…" He trails off when Connor takes one of Nines's hands, lifting it to his face and pressing his lips to the palm.

"I'd say that makes us even," he murmurs. "Wouldn't you agree?"

"Does it?" Nines whispers. "For nearly six months… I kept… doing that."

"Mhm. It really was amazing."

Nines feels a heat build in his circuits for some inexplicable reason. "Th-that is…"

Connor smirks against Nines's palm. "You're blushing, Nines."

Is that even possible? Nines doesn't have the same integration programs Connor does. He lifts a hand to his face, sensing the temperature of the surface with his fingertips.

"Not like that," Connor says. "I can see that your system temperature is rising, and your cooling units are working overtime. It happens when we get overwhelmed by emotions, and for those of us that have the software, we can simulate a blush. For you, you just get… warm."

"Oh." Nines drops his hand.

"Mm. What if I told you," Connor starts, "that I wanted more?"

Nines blinks. Blinks again. Connor pulls Nines's hand away from his face, and lifts his other hand to Nines's chin.

Connor leans in close. "What if I said that I wanted you to have sexual intercourse with me, Nines?"

Nines's eyes widen. "I… then…"

"Would you want that?" Connor asks, wrapping an arm around Nines's back, pulling them closer to each other. "Do you want me to fuck you?"

Yes. Yes, _yes,_ but… "Do you… really want to?"

"I do." He slides his hand from Nines's chin to his regulator, pressing gently. "Why don't you let me fill the hole in your heart?"

And Nines—falls. Not literally. But it feels like falling. A "yes" tumbles from his lips like it has a mind of its own, and Connor smiles. Stands up, takes his hand, leads him to a room—one that Nines had never been in before, one he thought was an extra room for storage, but it's—a bedroom, with a full-size mattress, curtains drawn, bands of afternoon light filtering through, casting dust motes in a golden glow.

The bed is made, but Connor lets Nines go to pull aside the pale blue blankets and place them, folded, off to the side. He sits on the edge and pats the sheets next to him—an invitation that Nines quickly accepts, drifting closer until he's seated next to Connor.

"How do you want to do this, Nines?" he asks quietly.

Nines doesn't know how to explain. It's just… a feeling.

"Would this be easier?" Connor extends a hand, skin pulled back.

Of course. Nines lifts his own hand to wrap around Connor's, and their fingers curl around each other's wrists as Nines's skin pulls away to reveal the glossy black of his chassis.

"That's always interesting to see," Connor murmurs, and then comes the request for an interface.

Nines accepts, and he feels—Connor's careful uncertainty, his quiet desire, and something small and growing that makes Nines feel so softly warm. Nines in turn tries to express—the cavernous ache, the strange exhaustion, a desire for closeness and intimacy that he has never been able to truly have. It's always just been himself. Only himself. He just wants… he wants to be able to fall, and know that he will be caught. To know that he does not need to catch himself, does not need to pick himself back up.

"I think I understand," Connor says, pulling his hand back and breaking the interface. Nines feels oddly bereft at that. "Let me take care of you, okay? Just relax. You don't need to do anything."

Nines's eyes flutter, and a feeling that he might describe as akin to having a security blanket placed around his shoulders washes through him. "Yes," is all he manages to say, and then Connor's hand is on the back of his neck, pulling him in.

Their lips meet, and Connor's tongue prods at Nines's mouth for entrance. Nines lets Connor in easily, and then that tongue is inside him, writhing in his mouth, tangling with his own tongue. It's different from the way he does it. This is—this is like Connor is trying to taste every corner of his mouth, plunging deep, and Nines can't help the quiet, breathy moan that escapes him.

Connor smiles against his lips before pulling back, a string of analysis fluid between them. He catches it with his tongue, licking his glistening lips, before smiling tenderly and pulling Nines up to the center of the bed. He pushes down on Nines's shoulders and Nines goes pliantly, letting himself sink against the pillows, blinking slowly. Connor then throws a leg over Nines's to straddle him and pushes his hands across Nines's chest—he's still wearing his black CyberLife shirt, just without the jacket.

Nines shivers as Connor caresses him—down his side, across his shoulders, up his cheek, turning Nines's head towards him before leaning in to take Nines's mouth once more. Nines parts his mouth immediately, and Connor slips his tongue inside, tasting him. Nines absently registers the analysis fluid of RK800-59 on his oral sensors.

Nines is so distracted by Connor's mouth and tongue that it takes a moment for him to notice Connor unbuttoning Nines's shirt and sliding the cloth apart, exposing Nines's chest.

Connor breaks the kiss to murmur against his mouth, "You didn't completely undress approximately 78% of the time. What would you like now?"

Nines's processors feel oddly sluggish, and he slowly blinks several times before he answers. "This… is okay, for now. Later… mm."

Connor pauses—and then smiles widely, stealing another kiss. "Later, huh?"

"Mm."

Connor moves to his neck, dragging his teeth against the now-exposed skin, and Nines shivers. Without it being a particularly conscious decision, he pulls away the skin on his chassis. Connor inhales audibly before pressing his lips gently to the bare chassis, pulling a soft hum from Nines's vocal module.

He feels Connor's hands slides against his chest, thumbs drawing closer to the ring of his regulator. The skin fades there, too, and the touch is—different. Electric, alive, and strangely exhilarating, to not know what happens next.

Then Connor presses his his thumbs against the ring of Nines's regulator. Nines's back arches, a shaky breath escaping him as he weakly clutches the sheets with one hand and uses his other to grab Connor's forearm.

"Everywhere I touch, your skin pulls away," Connor murmurs, pulling away from Nines's neck to look at him. "Is it because you crave connection?" He thumbs gentle circles against Nines's regulator, and Nines's toes curl as he lets out another shaky exhale.

"P… perhaps," Nines manages.

"Do you want to feel what I feel? Do you want to experience this in both bodies again?"

Nines's eyes slide closed and open. "Yes… please."

Connor opens up his systems, and Nines sinks in like snuggling into a familiar nest of blankets. He doesn't take control, no, but he seeps into the circuits, the artificial nerves, the optical units, everything. Enough to experience it.

Once again, he sees two. Connor from himself. Himself from Connor. Nines looks… dazed. His eyes are glassy, his lips are slightly parted. His shirt is splayed open, and Connor's hands are against the bare black chassis of his chest, thumbs lined up with the edge of his regulator. His breathing is faster than usual in an attempt to cool the rising heat of his systems. The sight is… exhilarating. He almost wishes to take himself again, and be taken by himself.

Connor laughs. "Falling in love with the image of yourself, huh? Like Narcissus." He leans down to lick into Nines's pliant mouth. _I hope you don't mind that it's me, though._

 _No, this is… very good,_ Nines replies through the interface. _Very… very good._

Connor chuckles, breath escaping through his nose to wash across Nines's face. _I'm glad._

Then he presses hard against Nines's regulator, and Nines gasps throatily. He's distracted by the simulation, and he doesn't notice Connor twist the unit, but he does notice when it's wrenched free, **MISSING BIOCOMPONENT** flaring across his display.

He sees himself spasm at the action—it's so _different_ when it's not himself doing it, when someone else is in control, when he's not expecting it. _"A-aah!"_ he cries out, hands flying to Connor's back and clutching at him uselessly.

"Ah," Connor murmurs, moving down to kiss Nines's chest around the empty slot, Nines's labored breaths making it shift against his lips. "God, you're amazing like this."

A warm feeling washes over him, and he closes his eyes. He doesn't notice it himself, but he does see when Connor sits up and sees—he's crying. Just a few tears slipping free, but he feels the echo of a strange thrill in Connor's mind as he lifts a hand—the one not holding Nines's heart, so to speak—to brush them away. Nines opens his eyes to meet Connor's again, seeing that his predecessor is smiling with a curiously tender expression.

"You are wonderful, Nines," he says, and there is that feeling again. "Beautiful, kind, considerate." He leans back down to Nines's chest, pressing his lips to the edge. "You may seem cold on the outside, but you are so, so warm in your heart."

"C-Connor," Nines mumbles, voice laced with static.

"You are," Connor continues, "so lonely. I can feel the ache inside you. I want to fill it." He glances up, lashes fluttering. "You're worth it, Nines."

Nines keens, eyes scrunching shut. It's so much, he's so warm, he can feel that every word is true. He's shaking with a feeling he can't name, but it's making optical cleaning fluid spill easily from his eyes.

"Shh…" Connor shushes, setting Nines's regulator to the side and caressing his chest. "Let me take care of you."

Before Nines can respond, Connor is licking into his hole, and Nines jolts. "H-nm," he sounds, squeezing the back of Connor's shirt. He can taste himself with Connor's oral sensors, he can feel Connor's expert tongue inside him, pressing against all the right seams to make electric currents run through his entire body. "Mm… ah, C-Connor…"

Both of them let out a shaky breath when Connor reaches one hand back to slip a finger into his own hole, already slick with lubricant. A preconstruction slips into Nines's mind: Connor fucking himself on Nines's regulator as he takes Nines. He's not sure who thought of it first, but Connor groans, and Nines can feel his predecessor's growing hardness twitching at the idea.

Connor quickly works in a second finger and a third, pushing his hips back against himself. He pulls his tongue out of Nines's slot, resting his forehead against Nines's chassis before he pulls out his fingers and sits up. Nines's hands slide to his belt, and when a preconstruction forms for Nines to help Connor out of his pants, Connor gently pushes it out of his mind.

"Relax, Nines," he says. "Just relax."

Nines closes his eyes and nods, simply watching through Connor's own eyes as he uses his clean hand to unbuckle his pants and slide them and his boxers to his knees.

… His dog-patterned boxers.

"I like dogs, okay?"

Fair enough, Nines supposes.

Connor returns his attention to his now-free phallus, standing flushed and erect. He grips it with his slick-covered hand, and Nines moans softly at the sensory feedback.

"Fuck," Connor says shakily, chuckling. "It's a strange feeling, knowing I'm pleasuring you when I touch myself."

Nines hums, eyes sliding open to see Connor for himself. His face is flushed with a simulated blush, and he's slightly biting his lip as he watches himself stroke his member.

"Okay," Connor says, letting himself go with a shaky breath. "Now…" He bends to the side, grabbing Nines's regulator from where it was lying on the bed. He bends over to rest his head against Nines's chest, elevating his hips to expose his hole to the air, before reaching back and gripping one of his cheeks to spread himself open.

"Do you need any…"

"It's okay, Nines, I got it." He lifts his other hand, the one holding Nines's regulator, and teases the biocomponent against his entrance. The plastic is still slightly warm from the regulator's processes, but the feeling still makes Connor and Nines tense.

Then he takes a deep breath and pushes it in, letting out a low groan. "Ah," Connor gasps. "God, this is—this—mm, it's different to feel it, haha," he says breathlessly.

Nines hums, clutching Connor's back. He can imagine so—the first time he used his regulator to penetrate himself was… intense. Even now, the way the ridges stimulate the anal sensors is enough to make Nines shudder. And of course, the mere thought of his heart being so defiled is incredibly, incredibly arousing.

Connor laughs weakly. "It is, god, it is. I guess this is as close as you're going to get to fucking this body if you don't install a phallus," he says as he presses it deeper and groans. "W-why," he takes a shaky breath, "why didn't you, anyways?"

"Mm… I…" Nines swallows, blinking a few times to try to gather enough processing power to answer the question. "I… I already had one… so I thought."

Connor laughs again, this time far more brightly. "You really thought of this body as yours, huh?"

"Mm. Yes."

Connor lets go of the regulator, leaving it inside himself to clench around as he sits up and splays his hands across Nines's chest, one still slightly wet from lubricant. "Were you just going to keep at it forever? Were you ever going to walk this body out of storage and fully claim it as your second body to live in?"

Nines's mouth goes oddly dry. "I—I don't know. I didn't think of it?"

"Ha… fair enough." Connor goes up on his knees, propping himself up, his hands on the bed on either side of Nines's face. He lines up his phallus with Nines's hole, still glistening with Connor's analysis fluid. "How many times did you do this?"

Nines is sure he can extract a number by going through his memories, but he doesn't manage to pull the answer out of his sluggish processors when Connor rams in, and all Nines can focus on is the explosion of sensation ripping a static sound from his throat.

He doesn't recover before Connor does it again. _"Aaah!"_ he cries out, and Connor moans as a connection breaks, as it always does when things get rough, and warm thirium floods the hole.

There's so much. The pressure around Connor's phallus, that feeling of clenching around his own heart buried deep into Connor's hole. The overwhelming sensation of being pounded into again and again and again, being filled, being filled with something more than just physical as their systems intertwine and he is crying again, gasping, staticky sobs and gasps escaping him, and he can _see_ himself, overwhelmed, face contorted in pleasure.

Not stopping his thrusting, Connor lowers himself to Nines's chest, positioning himself so one arm is wrapped around Nines's head, gripping his hair, and his other reaches back to his own hole to grab Nines's regulator and shove it in and out of himself with every thrust.

Nines keens as he feels it himself, and he wraps his arms tightly around Connor as his voice breaks down completely into static. As his thoughts spin out into nothing but pleasure, movement, unity, of blending into Connor physically and mentally.

 _Connor,_ he manages, _Connor, Connor I—I—I'm going to—_

"Y-you, mm, you can let go. You can let go, Nines," he says, and his thrusts grow deep and powerful, making the headboard bang against the wall. "I, ah, I'm close too, I, hnm!" He slams his phallus deep into Nines, stimulating so many sensors, even as he shoves Nines's regulator deep, so deep that if Nines could hold a thought he might be worried about getting it out.

But all his thoughts are banished as warmth fills him up, and he feels himself come in two bodies, as he screams static and everything goes white.

When he comes down from it, he's breathing heavily. Both of them. Connor slowly lets go of Nines's hair. He presses a gentle kiss to Nines's head before pulling himself up and out of him, cock dripping with so many fluids that it drips right back into the hole.

"God," Connor chuckles breathlessly.

Nines can't even formulate a response. He lies there limply, fingers hooked loosely on Connor's shirt. He's still in Connor's systems, and he sees himself—expression blank, mouth parted, trails of tears coming from his eyes. He's sure to save the image. His system is still giving him warnings about a thirium leak and a missing biocomponent, though…

"I'll take care of it," Connor says. He presses two fingers into Nines's hole, making him twitch—but Connor reattaches the tube easily before lifting his fingers out, coated in a mix of blue and white. He licks off the mess, lathing his tongue across the pads and sucking on the tips, and Nines can only stare, enraptured.

Connor smirks, making a show of sliding his fingers all the way into his mouth, down to the knuckle, sucking, and pulling them back out, now only glistening with his analysis fluid. Nines captures every detail.

His predecessor gives another quiet chuckle before reaching backwards to press his fingers inside himself. "Ha, fuck, that's deep," Connor says. His face pinches, his eyes slip shut, and his mouth slightly parts as he tries to get a grip on the biocomponent, fingering himself in the process. Everything's still a bit sensitive, and Nines closes his eyes, letting out a small sound.

"I know, I know," Connor says, reaching up to brush Nines's hair back. It feels nice. "Just give me a second, okay?" He huffs. "Can't believe I got your heart stuck up my ass."

Nines lets out a single huff of a laugh.

Eventually, Connor manages to get a grip and starts tugging out the biocomponent, both of them groaning softly as it finally slides free, dripping with slick.

"Guess I should clean this, huh…" he murmurs.

Words are—difficult at the moment, somehow, so Nines simply sends a preconstruction: Connor putting the regulator back into Nines just like this, fluids everywhere. Like thirium, they evaporate quickly in open air, but… the fluids trapped inside him will circulate through his systems. Connor's lubricant, his artificial semen. It's harmless—but Nines likes the thought of being infused with that essence.

"Ha…" Connor laughs weakly. "You're incredible, Nines," and he lowers the regulator back to Nines's chest before pushing it in.

Nines jolts at the sensation, closing his eyes, but sees Connor see the excess cum and thirium spurting out of the edges as the fluids are displaced by his regulator.

"Fuck, that's so hot," Connor mumbles, and Nines notices him save a high-resolution clip to storage. Fair enough.

Connor leans down, and then he's licking away the fluids dripping down Nines's chest, swallowing them down, and _oh,_ that feels very nice. Nines lifts a hand to Connor's hair, exhaling shakily.

He finishes soon enough, and sits up. He leans over to grab a few tissues from a box on the bedside table—Nines absently wonders what they're for, and is rewarded with a memory file of Connor touching himself as he watches the body's memories, catching the release with a tissue. Ah.

Connor wipes down Nines's chest and then his softened phallus before tossing the tissues in a nearby trashcan. He methodically buttons Nines's shirt, smoothing out the wrinkles before he pulls up his pants and tucks himself back in.

When he starts to get up, Nines clings to his shirt without thinking. "I'm not going," Connor says, laying a hand on top of Nines's. "Just changing position."

Oh, okay. Nines lets go, and Connor lifts himself off Nines to lay down next to him before pulling Nines up against his chest, facing him, and brushing his fingers through Nines's hair.

If Nines had any tension before, it completely melts away now. He feels warm, filled… He feels cherished. That aching emptiness is gone.

Connor presses a kiss to his hair. "I'm glad, Nines. I'm glad."

Nines hums softly. He wants to be with Connor more.

"Me, too," Connor says. He toys with the loose strands of Nines's hair for a moment. "Do you want to live with us?"

… Huh?

"We talked about it. Me and Hank, I mean. After we found out you were still living in the Tower."

Oh. Nines… thinks he would like that. The mere thought makes warmth flutter through him.

Connor smiles against his hair. "I'm glad. Though… I have to ask," he says, sheepishness running through his voice and his mind. "Would you be okay with Hank knowing that we're pursuing sexual relations? He'll be back soon, and, well… it's likely he'll find out eventually, but if it makes you uncomfortable…?"

Hmm… Nines would be alright with Hank knowing. This part, at least. What came before—using Connor's body, Connor watching Nines—… he's not sure.

"That can stay between us, then," Connor murmurs. He kisses Nines's hair again.

Nines hums. "Th… thank y-you," he manages, voice faint and still tinged with static.

Connor blinks, smiling slightly. "No need to thank me. This is what I wanted… this is what I want. Okay?"

_Okay._

"Now get some rest," he says. "You deserve it."

So Nines closes his eyes and sits himself sink into the warm comfort of Connor's embrace.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> If you'd like to know when things will update, check out my posting schedule [here](https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/14mF6Rm_CTutT-3XSqsCcDDv2vyKzEoc0RNywZlKxD3g/edit#gid=1114913519)!
> 
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